Brown and Yellow
by MelloRiza
Summary: The greatest victory is the one you won over your own self.


_Hi everyone!_

_This is my second fanfiction. It is going to be a short motivational story - if that category even exists. I hope you will enjoy reading it and please leave a review if you liked it._

* * *

\- You have done it _again_, Brother – Norway violently grabbed Denmark's tie and tightened it to the end of its flexibility – For once, why can't you just shut your mouth and sit still?

\- _Comkh on, ith wasnh't on p'rpus'!_ – Denmark tried to explain himself, but his tie was too tightly constricting his neck.

\- You ruined Tino's birthday and insulted everyone – Lukas reminded him – You are a mindless imbecile.

\- _I'm so-...sorry…_ \- the Dane tried to explain himself, but couldn't inhale the air for the words.

\- No, you are _not_. You ruin every single thought which comes to your exceptionally small and stupid brain – said Lukas, his voice was quiet, but cruelly cold and irritated. He wasn't worried over hurting the Dane, they had arguments like these nearly every week, if not every day. However, this time, Denmark had crossed the line so much, Norway couldn't censor his unusually disobliging words anymore – You are always like this.

\- _I kh…khan change…_ \- Denmark groaned, trying to escape from the smothering.

\- I've heard that innumerable times by now, yet you are still a brain-dead idiot. You are good for nothing. All of us have grown up and try to achieve something in our life, but you just get drunk and dishonor us. You are so humiliating that sometimes we are ashamed that you're a part of the Nordics. It would be better without you – with those words, Lukas let go of the Dane's tie – Now go home, I've had enough of you.

\- Come on, Norge – Denmark tried to save the situation – I can still make the things better.

\- Don't _dare_ to come back. Apparently none of us want to see you – the small man clenched his teeth – Go wherever you want. 'Natt. – without waiting for more excuses, Norway went into the house, shutting the door behind him with a loud bang.

**(Break)**

It was a two weeks later, however Denmark could recall it as clearly as it was the day before.

He stood there in the parking for minutes, silently staring into the distance. In two weeks he called them a lot, leaving voice messages behind, but none of them called back. They were all avoiding his existence.

It seemed this time everyone was _really_ angry with him, despite the things that had happened being completely accidental. If Hanatamago haven't been around his legs all evening, he wouldn't have fallen on Iceland, kocking out Tino's brithday cake from his hands. And it wasn't his fault either, that that _damn_ cake was so slippery, that he had fallen on the presents, smashing them into pieces. It was only a goddamned accident!

He turned around slowly, walked to his car and sat in it.

_You are so humiliating that sometimes we are ashamed, that you're the part of the Nordics._

He repeated Norway's words for millions of times by then.

So that's how they felt, ja? They were ashamed of him. Well... That was new.

Of course Norway had always said bad things to him before, but never went _that_ far. He repeated the „mindless idiot", „childish imbecile" and „brain-dead" nicknames so many times, that Denmark got used to it. Usually, he didn't take it to heart, but this time, it was different.

He felt hurt. Misunderstood. Even misjudged.

Sometimes he felt that the others thought of him as a handicapped person and the Evil itself in one body. Someone, who will spoil everything, without even noticing it. A complete disaster, from whom it is better to keep yourself away.

That hurt him. A lot, actually. Compared to his cheerful and kind-hearted character, he felt horribly misunderstood. Like if none of the Nordics actually knew him.

He stared at the dashboard before him, then shook his head and turned the car keys.

As the floodlit garden city was exchanged with the continously flashing lamp post's light of the motorway, Denmark started to feel uncomfortable with the silence. He didn't want to stay alone with his thoughts. Why did they always treat him like this? After he had loved them so much. The Nordics were his family. He _loved_ them. He had never said anything to them by malice. He didn't even say a word when all of them have left him. Despite he felt horrible, he had never ever mentioned it to anyone. He forgave them immediately. He didn't even demand for apology.

Yet, they were always so mean to him. They thought he was a shame. His own family thought it would be better without him. They all thought he was good for nothing.

Denmark sighed with anxiety and turned on the radio. He just wanted to hear something else than his own hurtful thoughts.

_Days like these I want to drive away..._

He groaned as a response to the sad music and turned it off. Why on Earth does the radio have to play such stupid songs when he's feeling so down? Is the whole world against him? Why is everyone thinking that he's a mindless imbecile who's good for nothing?

He repeated those questions for hundreds of times, getting more and more sad and hurt, pushing the gas pedal stronger, everytime the pain filled his chest.

It turned out that the radio was right, he had to admit. Those days he _really_ wanted to drive away and leave everything behind. Just for some time to recollect his pride. To think over everything. Far away from everyone, who could bring him down.

However, eventually that never happened. He had always convinced himself, that it would be really selfish and reckless of him, just leaving without a word. But of course, sometimes he imagined it. How the others would probably worry about him and start to search for him. And right after they had found him, they would scold him for being so childish for running away and Denmark himself would feel better, seeing the other's concerned expressions, verifying himself that his family cared about him. That was the plot.

Well, the plot he had always hoped for, deep down in his heart.

_...it would be better without you..._

So there goes his hope. That's how worried they would be. He had never thought that would be the scenario. Maybe they wouldn't even notice his absence? Maybe. Or, if they did, they surely would be happier. His own family wouldn't _even miss _him.

Denmark groaned angrily. That was all about his selfishness. That was why he persuaded himself to not run away all these years.

He accidentally glimpsed at a non-stop shop and quickly changed his mind. Well, instead of driving away he could still have done something to get away from that day's happenings. He would just buy some beer in that shop and drink it in record time. That will help him to forget how miserable he was feeling after what had happened. He got out of the car, went to the shop, got some beer and queued as there were a lot of youngers waiting for paying. They didn't look young, even so Denmark was visibly older than them. Despite, that he was a country, he wasn't a new-born, what meant, he was aging, however not in the ordinary rhythm, but he slowly grew up as every existing creature. He wasn' a young teenager, but a full-grown man.

_All of us have grown up and try to achieve something in our life, but you just always get drunk..._

Denmark stopped for a second, staring before himself. What was that?

_I can change!_

_I've heard that innumerably lots of times by now, yet you are still a brain-dead idiot._

The recognition's sad grin appeared on his face.

Eventually, he was right. Norway. He was always right. In everything.

He was a brain-dead idiot. He _really_ was.

_You are good for nothing_.

He was right in everything, he had ever said to him. He was an imbecile. A waste of time and space. An eternal childish idiot without any real goals in his life.

...Wait, that wasn't exactly true. He _had_ a goal in his life. He wanted to make his family happy.

The family, which was ashamed because of him. He had just one goal and couldn't even fulfill it.

Suddenly, he felt more lost than ever before.

He was alone. Completely alone.

\- Excuse me? Is that all? - asked the young saleswoman. Denmark didn't notice that the large queue slowly disappeared and he was the upcoming costumer.

He quickly glanced at the dozen beer cans which was waiting in his hands.

He wasn't thirsty anymore.

\- Nei, I think this is a bit too much. I'll put back a few – he lied and returned the cans where they were originally.

It was pointless now. No alcohol could mitigate that feeling.

He felt empty. Horribly empty. He had lost his family and his goal of his life. He was completely hopeless.

On the way out, he glanced at the billboard.

That was when he saw _it_.

**If you have no goals for yourself, join the army and fight for the others'.**

_You are good for nothing_.

No. He was definitely good for something.

* * *

_I don't own Hetalia. Sadly._


End file.
